It
was about nine-a-clock P.M., and Chrissy normally would have
been preparing to leave around then, but today decided to stay
late and work on a few things. An average secretary, not too
bright but very pretty, with shoulder length, beautiful brown
hair, sparkling blue eyes, long lashes, and a shapely body.
A few papers and the sort had to be done by Monday morning,
and Chrissy had slackened off the past few days so that they
remained un-finished. As a secretary at a large business, she
was overlooked, and it didn’t matter that she slacked
off most of the time. A few hours passed and she still hadn’t
finished the papers, though every one else had left. Soon she
yawned, and noticed how late it was. Uncontrollably, she yawned
again. "Just rest my eyes...a bit,"she muttered
to herself as she leaned back into her chair. Unbeknownst to
her, though, sleeping gas was being filtered into the room,
and since it was so late, and unfortunately for her, she didn’t
notice the odd scent in the air.

A
few minutes, or hours later, Chrissy wasn’t sure, she
awoke. The first thing she noticed was that even though she
opened her eyes, everything was pitch-black to her. Secondly
she noted that she was unable to move an inch, with her wrists
seemingly tied to the arms of her chair, and her ankles tied
to the legs. Still a tad bit groggy, Chrissy had no idea how
dire the situation was, figuring she was just extremely tired
or dreaming. It was then she realized two men were talking
rather loudly, arguing, she decided. The words weren't clear
at first, but she soon was able to distinguish the words. “....
Just aren't there! This is bad, what if he took them with him?",
a voice spoke.

"Well,
it doesn't matter much, we have insurance,"the second
voice took a pause, then continued, "We just make her
talk, she must know something if she works here."

It was then she realized, and thought, wait...I cant move.
Kidnappers? No, Im their insurance...they are searching for
something then?

"I'll
keep looking. You just find a way to make her talk. She probably
knows something,"spoke the first voice, followed by a
few footsteps, and the opening and closing of a door.

Then Chrissy heard footsteps approaching her, and she quivered.
Make me talk, she thought, about what? What's going on? "Humph,
so you're awake are you? Well, what do you know of your boss's
little program to put the place across the street out of business?
See, I don’t want to lose my job..."

Silence. What project, she thought to herself? I never heard
any about this. "I don’t know what you're talking
about."she replied.

"Wrong
answer. Funny though, when I was tying you up, I kept brushing
up against you. You kept pulling away and giggling every time
I did."Said the voice, and Chrissy felt her legs being
untied, and put onto a desk that must have been in front of
her. Her ankles were quickly tied together and placed bacl
onto the table. A few seconds passed, and soon Chrissy felt
her left shoe being removed from her foot, "You can always
talk, you know..."
As soon as her shoe was removed, Chrissy gasped, realizing
that he meant to tickle her and make her talk. "No, no
not my feet! I'm too ticklish! I don’t know anything,
honest!"she yelled, but to no avail. A finger crept up
her nylon sole, and she gasped and screamed, "No, no-ho-ho-ho,
not my fe-he-he-he-et, rehehehehehe!"Then as soon as
the tickling torture began, it stopped. Just as soon though,
she felt something squeeze her right foot, with its shoe still
on it.

"Just talk,
that’s all you have to do."
But Chrissy was still gasping, trying to catch her breath from
the last few minutes of tickling. "I...I don’t...don’t
know what you're talking about...re...really. Please don’t...don’t
tickle me anymore...I cant...cant take it..."she spluttered.

Suddenly a door opened
and slammed off to Chrissies right. "Hey, what the hell
are you doing? I heard yelling...oh I didn’t find anything
by the way,"spoke the first voice from earlier.

"You
said make her talk. I decided to have a little fun while I
was at it. She'll talk."

"Humph...whatever
works for you...I’m gonna go look around here,"said
the voice, and the man thumped off. There was a rustle of papers
in the background. Chrissies right shoe came off, and this
time the man didn write (Ljava/lang/String;)V ! java/io/Writer #
$ "È8217;t just draw a finger up and down one
of her soles. Nothing could have prepared her for this tickling,
as her capture quickly drew his hands across her soles and
toes. Chrissy screamed, and struggled against her bonds, but
soon broke down laughing when she realized there really was
no way out. Tell him what he wants...but I never heard of any
of this! The tickling was unbearable. Unfortunately for Chrissy,
she was excrutiatingly ticklish, especially on the soles of
her feet, and the nylons just made them that more ticklish.
She screamed when his fingers stroked her toes, laughed deeply
when they spidered down her arches, and then continued their
path around her feet. All the time she laughed loudly, praying
silently for some escape from the tickling, with no luck. This
time there was no break after a few minutes, and she soon found
herself gasping for breath, begging the man to stop.

"I..I
ha-ha-ha-ha-a, I cant ha-ha-ha-ha, ca-ha-ha-ha-ha-nt ta-he-he-he-ke
an-he-he, an-he-he-he, anymore! Ple-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-ase,
sto-ha-ha-ha-ha, sto, he-he-he, stopppp! No, not that! Haaaaaaah,
hahahahahahaha!"The tickling was relentless. As expected,
he wanted her to talk, not waste his time tickling her, so
he would do his best. Seemingly for an hour the tickling went
on like that, and then it stopped quite suddenly. Gasping and
giggling, she tried to calm herself and reclaim some self-control.

"So, do you feel
like giving me the info I’m looking for? Certainly no
job is worth this,"he said as a finger slowly drew up
her right arch, she bucked and giggled madly until it stopped, "Bah,
she's ticklish but...hey, did you find anything?"At that
time she realized the other man must have come in without her
knowing.

The gruff voice
responded, "Nothing, that bastard must have taken the
papers with him, or something. Any luck with her?""Nothing.""Blast!
What are we going to do?""Go
down to my car, and look in the trunk. I think I have some
feathers there, maybe some other things. Bring them back up,
and I guarantee that this girl will talk."

When
he said that Chrissy gulped. She had had hopes that maybe he
was done, and hopefully, she would be released. Obviously not,
though. Then she felt his warm hands on her left foot and whimpered,
and tried to pull her foot back. Damnit, she thought, he would
have a strong grip! Wonderment and thankfulness came over her
when she realized he had no intention of tickling her. Then
horror, when Chrissy heard and felt her the nylon around her
foot ripped off. Wiggling the bare toes of her left foot, she
felt dazed, and then the same occurred to her right. Barefoot,
she realized, and then asked herself, what does he plan now?
Nothing happened, thankfully, and she sat, waiting. In its
own way the waiting was more agonizing than the tickling, knowing
that she was going to be tortured, but not when, or how. A
few minutes passed, and still nothing happened, until a door
opened and closed, and the familiar thump-thump of one of the
men walking, or both, she couldn’t be sure, came closer,
louder. Then the first man spoke, "Feathers, and a load
of other stuff. I don’t know what this is, but I brought
it, some kind of tanning oil? You queer or something

"Whatever
works, you said. I like seeing girls smile and laugh,"a
finger crept up Chrissies right arch, and she gasped, laughed, "And
tickling does that for me. Just hand me the feathers and I
can continue."

"Whatever..."

Then it occurred to Chrissy, of course, feathers! Tickling,
feathers, it makes sense. Instantly she shuddered, realizing
again that she was the one being tickled. A stiff feather crept
up her right foot, and wiggled its way around. Screaming, laughing,
she remembered the tickling from a few moments ago. "Ahhhhh
hahahahahahaha! Sto-ha-ha-ha-ha-aaaooopppp! No-ho-ho-ho-ho,
not my to-he-he-he-he-es! I do-ho-ho-ho-ho-nt kn-he-he-he-he-he-ow
an-he-he, an-ha-ha-ha, anything! I sw-he-ea-ha-ha-ha-r!"she
pleaded. Unfortunately for her, the pleading only made the
man tickle her more, and focus on her toes. She gasped, pleaded,
bucked, but to no avail. Her laughter soon became desperate,
and then after a half an hour she just couldn’t laugh
anymore, and her mouth was wide open, but nothing came out.
The feather was so ticklish on her bare feet though, she thought,
this is madness. Up and down her sole the feather went, up
and down and in-between her toes, and across them. Fluttering,
then stroking, slow and fast, she couldn’t keep tract,
it tickled too much. Eventually, after an amount of time, since
Chrissy lost tract, the feather stopped.

"You
said she would talk, she isn’t talking! It’s getting
late, and I’m tired!"

Great,
thought Chrissy, they still aren't done. I can’t take
this, and they wont stop! I don’t even know what they
want! A click, like a jar cap being pulled off, sounded, and
Chrissy felt her feet being rubbed. She moaned, and slid back
in her chair, as far as the rope would allow at least. The
rubbing felt so good on her tired and tickled feet. What she
didn’t realize was that tanning oil had been applied
to her feet. "There,"said the second voice, "If
this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will. Why
don’t you take her left, Ill take her right?"